Fairytale
by awesome.i.am
Summary: The realities of life are felt harder than ever as these couples try to find the right path to their awaiting 'fairytales'. Multicouples.


**This just popped up in my head, review if I should continue! Thank you.**

_War wasn't supposed to have such an effect on him,_ Eve thought. As he ate, he had a starry look on his face and seemed to be unconscious of what he was actually doing – eating. She had the tendency to play with her wedding ring when she was anxious or nervous but as she thought about this particular problem and compare it with the fact things could have been worse, such as him not coming back, made it all better. John was distant and resembled little to the man she had married two years ago. Getting out her own soup out of the microwave, she wondered what was racing through his mind. The brunette looked for a dish rag to aid her in removing the hot soup, but something didn't seem right.

All of a sudden, she heard the faint sound of a sniffle.

Putting down the soup with a finesse that only a master chef could manage, she turned to her husband to see his head bent and his sweatpants wet. Eve bent down to see the ruthful tears of her husband run down his cheek as her heart ached for him. She had grown tired of asking him what was wrong during these times – it would get her nowhere. Instead, she patted his back and whispered sweet nothings to remount him, hoping that it would be the last time.

Unfortunately, he gave the impression that there would never be a last time.

"Babe, both of his legs were missing. I carried him, y'know?" His baby blues shone with unshed tears as tears gathered in her greens.

Eve knew therapy was an option but John had refused countless times. He knew who he was and she wasn't anybody to question that. But she knew it was eating him up, tearing at his insides. Eve sometimes thought about the kids she would have and knew she didn't want her children to grow up with father in this type of state.

So, she did what she could when his depressive state of mind would dominate him; try her hardest to comfort him and at the end, nothing seemed to change.

* * *

Sleeping with a married man wasn't easy. It never was or was going to be easy.

Alicia woke up when she felt something digging into her thigh; it was his wedding ring. She picked up his big, calloused hand and looked at the simple gold band. Wedding vows recited themselves over in her hand as she continued inspecting the ring and suddenly, she laughed.

The ring meant nothing.

Here he was, Randy Orton in her bed, sound asleep as she toyed with his much bigger hand. She hit her alarm that alerted it was five in the morning. The foxy diva turned on her nightstand lamp and looked at his tattoos like she did every time they were together. She knew each one had a meaning but was curious to know. Then her eyes caught the light of a specific tracing and realized he probably dedicated it to Alanna. She threw his hand away when he unknowingly shifted and snuggled closer to her.

To be frank, Alicia felt terrible.

This wasn't her place, not at all. She was supposed to be wifed up at her age and not be someone's mistress.

But she just couldn't put an end to everything with the snap of her fingers because at the end of each passing day, she knew in her heart she loved the man who was snoring his ass off next to her. She worried if he felt the same or if she was just some piece of ass for the year.

Pushing those negative thoughts away, she clasped his hand and kissed it, hoping their love would last.

* * *

Alberto never missed any soccer match involving Mexico, and as he watched Portugal kick Mexico's ass, all he could do was bitterly laugh with anger. This couldn't be possible, he thought. He cinched his black trousers as he intently focused on Cristiano Ronaldo – the ball was his. The Mexican aristocrat's teeth grinded in anger as he watched another goal was made.

In the midst of all his silent anger, the door opened. The sharp clacking of heels on his expensively marbled floor, the shuffling of bags and the sweet, irresistible scent of magnolias mixed with something else he didn't know all gave her away; it was Maryse. He decided to give his soccer match a very quick rest and looked at the platinum blonde and was happy he did; she was absolutely stunning.

Maryse dropped her bags near the sofa and slowly walked over to her soon to be husband. She knew when he was in this mood the only thing that could win him over was a little taste of her. So, she straddled him and internally sighed when she realized his eyes were still glued to the 41-inch plasma television in front of him.

"Hi, Berty." She knew he hated that nickname and for a split second, his eyes were on her.

His attention she once had was now focused on the stupid soccer match – Mexico was losing 5-1, what was the point of watching it anyway? So, she straddled him some more and knew she was rubbing against a very, very sensitive spot. The blonde beauty felt like laughing when she caught a glimpse of his eyes closing and quickly gave his cheek a rough pat.

Maryse kissed him – he could never resist her kisses – and grabbed the remote control, intending to turn it off. Fiddling with the tiny buttons, she found the right one as Alberto's hand was already cupping her butt.

"I have something very important to tell you." Her voice was breathy and a sheen of sweat adorned her forehead.

"What is it, mi corazon?" Alberto toyed with her long hair while he looked deep into her hazel eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

It was like all the spit he would have swallowed either pooled in his mouth or refused to go down his throat. He took in her beauty, her flawless porcelain skin, hazel eyes and kissable lips and concluded that she was the epitome of beauty.

And now that epitome of beauty was going to be ruined by a baby?

Hell no.

Alberto was never one at hiding his emotions but now, for her sake, he would just have to.

"That's great." A toothy smile was plastered on his face and he rubbed her arms up and down.

"You're lying to me. Why?" Daggers were sent through those hazel eyes of hers.

"I'm not." Nervously scratching his head, he sent her his usual smoothing-out-problems smile but nothing did the trick.

Maryse had tears in her eyes as she turned on the T.V., got up and grabbed her shopping bags. He called out to her and for the first time, she didn't even glance at him as she walked away.

He had screwed up big time.

**Yes or no for chapter 2?**


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